


For You, For Me, For All Of Us

by SushiOwl



Series: Pigments and Pentacles [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Piercings, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:49:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4522698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiOwl/pseuds/SushiOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few days later, the doorbell jingled, and a familiar scent hit Peter’s nose. He turned, already smiling, and there was Vince at the door, grinning ear to ear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For You, For Me, For All Of Us

**Author's Note:**

> This one took a bit because I was finishing up a long story. Hopefully updates will be at most two weeks apart.

"Peter, Peter!" Stiles wailed as he rushed into the parlor, waving his phone in his hand.

Peter looked up from his 3DS and blinked at his mate. "You're excited," he said, half tempted to ask how much Adderall he'd taken that morning.

"Look!" Stiles shoved the phone into his face, and Peter grunted as he took it.

"What am I looking at?" Peter asked, setting his 3DS on his bench and looking at the face of the phone.

"It's the Howler forums," Stiles explained, crowded up against Peter’s side. "Look, this is the ad I put out." He pointed to a long post about the shop and the people that worked there. There were some pictures attached of Carina's tattoos as examples of wolfsbane infused ink.

"So this is what Vince was talking about," Peter said, before he started to scroll slowly through all of the responses. Most of them were asking for verification of other that the tattoos were real. That was understandable. 

Then Peter got to a post that made him smile wide.

"Hey dudes," it said. "My name is Vince and I'm alpha of the Oakhurst pack in Cali. I went to Peter's shop and got a hella badass tattoo. If you're looking to get inked, I definitely recommend this shop, even if you're not a wolf. There’s awesome aftercare too. ;) 10/10 def recommend. Check out the pictures I've attached of the piece I got done." The first picture was of Vince's upper half, shirtless with a grin and both hands doing a thumbs up. Next was a close up of the tattoo, so clean and crisp.

That seemed to get the people on the forum excited, because there were several posts gleefully stating they were going to check the shop out, drive across the country if they had to. "Looks like we're going to have an influx of customers," Peter said, delighted about it.

"Yay," Carina said, not looking up from the drawing she was doing. Next to her, Dan snickered, looking at her like she was made of sunshine.

Peter and Stiles looked at each other, sharing a stare. It was kind of amazing how Carina was completely oblivious to the fact that Dan would crawl across hot coals if she expressed an interest in seeing him suffer. But she smiled and joked and laughed, always touching him on the arm and hugging him when the shop was closing down. She didn't have a clue, and he was too hesitant to say anything.

* * *

A few days later, the doorbell jingled, and a familiar scent hit Peter’s nose. He turned, already smiling, and there was Vince at the door, grinning ear to ear. He had two women with him, one older and as tall as he was, and the other young and barely up to his chest. Peter stood and went to greet them.

"Nice to see you again," he said to Vince, extending his hand.

Vince laughed. "C'mon," he said, grabbing Peter’s hand and jerking him into a tight hug, causing him to grunt as his back was popped. "It's good to see you, buddy," Vince said, releasing him with a hefty pat on his shoulder.

Peter managed to stifle his cough into a mediocre thing. "I always appreciate a spine realignment." He looked between the women accompanying Vince. "And who are these lovely ladies?"

"Shit, where are my manners?" Vince said with a laugh, before he indicated to the younger of the two women. "This is Margie, my mate." The woman gave a finger wiggling wave, smiling. "And this is my mama, Anita."

"It's good to meet you," Anita said, putting out her hand for Peter to shake. She smelled human. "You're the man behind my son's beautiful tattoo, aren't you?"

Peter took her hand, unable to help his smile. "That would be me." They parted and Peter looked between them. "Are you folks looking to get something done, or is this a very appreciated social call?"

"Margie wanted to get a piercing, right babe?" Vince said, putting his arm around Margie. She nodded.

"Where would you like it?" Peter asked, figuring that wouldn't take very long at all. 

"My eyebrow," Margie said, lifting her hand to smooth the dark hairs with a finger.

"Alright, easy enough," Peter said, turning toward the counter where Dan was sitting, casually watching them. "If you wouldn't mind filling out a release, I'll go set up my station." He went to go around the counter to the back of the shop.

“Oh, pardon,” Anita said, and Peter turned back in her direction. “I want something done too.” She started to dig around in her tote bag.

Vince looked confused. “Mama?” he asked, looking at her hands. When she pulled out a photograph, he leaned over to see what it was. Then he gasped, eyes going wide. 

Anita turned the photograph for everyone to see. It was a young boy, grinning huge enough to break his face with one of his front teeth missing. “I want to get a tattoo of my beautiful son.”

“Mama,” Vince said again, almost choking on the words. He reached up to hold his face, his bright eyes going wide and a bit wet. Even Margie had her hand over her mouth, eyes huge.

Anita gave her son a smile and reached over to pat his arm. “You’re not the only one with surprises, pup.” Then she handed the photo over to Peter. “Is this something you can do?”

“I love doing portraits,” Peter replied, looking at the photo. It was a good one with lovely contrast and clarity. It would be pretty easy to copy. “Where would you like it?” he asked, and Anita held out her arm, pointing to her forearm. He laid the picture over the area and hummed in consideration. “Yeah, looks good.”

"Can I get it today?" Anita asked when Peter pulled the picture away. She rubbed her forearm.

"That shouldn't be a problem. Just give me a few minutes to pierce her eyebrow--" He indicated to Margie, who was finishing up filling out the release form. "--and I'll be all yours."

Anita smiled and nodded, before she headed over to the couch to wait. Vince followed after her.

After Dan copied Margie's license, Peter led her to his station, where she hopped up onto the chair and watched him as he washed his hands, put on gloves and found the appropriate needle. He set out the curved barbell that would go in the piercing, before he looked at Margie. "Which eyebrow?"

She pointed to her right, so Peter moved over to that side, pulling his rolling station tray with him. "The eyebrow is a pretty good place to get pierced," he said as he wiped down the area with an alcohol swab. "It's not a sensitive area. Is it your first body mod?" When Margie nodded, he gave a little hum. "I have a feeling it won't be your last."

Margie smiled brilliantly at him. "Oh, definitely. You'll see more of me in the future."

"I would be delighted to be your body modification artist," Peter said, picking up the clamp, which had been soaking in antiseptic with the needle and jewelry. He clamped the area before he picked up the needle. "Deep breath in, big breath out." He stabbed the needle through the skin, and Margie squeaked, eyes flashing gold for a fraction of a second before she released all the tension with a laugh. 

Peter slid the jewelry into place and screwed the second ball on, before he wiped away the small amount of blood and sat back. "I think that looks pretty good," Peter said, grabbing the hand mirror as Margie sat up. He handed the mirror over, and she took a look. A grin burst across her face, and Peter felt pleased.

"It's great," she said, turning her head in different directions. "How long do you think it will take to heal?" She handed the mirror back.

"For something that size, I can't say it'll take more than a few hours. I didn't put any wolfsbane on the needle or anything." Peter inspected the piercing a moment. "I would suggest just leaving it alone. If it's still tender when you go to bed, then just gently clean it with antibacterial soap."

"Okay," Margie replied, nodding. "Thank you."

"Sure," Peter replied.

After collecting money from Margie, Peter took the picture of Vince from Anita and went to start on the stencil. He sat down at his light box, flipping it on, and laid the photo down before placing a piece of translucent tracing paper over it. As he traced and careful plotted out the picture, Dan came over to see what he was doing.

“So you outline where you’re going to shade too?” Dan asked, soft like he was afraid that he would bother Peter with his questions. But Peter didn’t mind at all.

“That’s right,” Peter said, moving his hand out of the way so Dan could look at it. It almost looked indecipherable, lines everywhere, but Peter had been doing this long enough that he knew the method to the madness. “And I’ll have the reference there to look off of.” He looked up at Dan. “Have you painted any portraits?”

“Not many,” Dan said, shaking his head. “Just a few. They turned out pretty well though.”

“You’ll be amazed as to how painting translates to tattooing.” Peter gave his tracing one last look, before he handed it over to Dan to make the stencil.

Peter washed his hands again, before he put a new pair of gloves on. He had Anita get onto the chair so he could look at her arm. There was only a bit of hair on her forearm, faintly blonde. He grabbed a razor and worked to remove it. “So did you want color or black and grey?” he asked.

“Black and grey,” Anita said, watching him. “Like my son’s.”

“That’s the easiest way to do it, to be honest," Peter said, spritzing Anita's arm with green soap before wiping it off. Once it was all clean, he held out his hand for the stencil when Dan brought it over. He laid it over the area, making sure it was straight, before he patted it against her skin gently. Then he slowly peeled it off. "How does that look?"

Anita lifted her arm, turning her wrist this way and that. "I like it," she told him with a nod.

Peter attached the reference photo to Anita's upper arm with a piece of tape and got started. They existed in a comfortable space for a while, the only sounds being the buzz of the tattoo machine and the smooth classical rock from the radio. It wasn't until an hour in when Anita spoke.

"So you're not going to comment on how I'm not a werewolf?" she said, tilting her head against her shoulder.

"I didn't want to seem rude," Peter told her, not lifting his eyes from his work.

"My husband is a wolf," Anita explained, flexing her hand a moment before letting it go limp again. "He shifted on our second date, and I hit him in the nose with my pocketbook."

Peter couldn't help his chuckle. 

"Once he explained what he was, though, I understood the trust he was putting in me." She wiggled a bit, probably going a bit numb from the waist down. Peter adjusted his hold on the tattoo machine. "I told him that I would always keep him safe."

Peter smiled, eyes flicking toward Stiles before he could stop himself. His precious mate was at the counter with Dan, shooting the shit with Vince. 

"He's cute," Anita said, bringing Peter's attention to her again. "He's the young witch, isn't he? The one that healed Vince's tattoo?"

"He is," Peter said, getting back to work. "He keeps getting more amazing every day."

"Is he your emissary?"

Peter paused, looking up and blinking. "You know I hadn't actually considered it." He glanced at Stiles again. Without trying, Stiles had been taking the role of emissary. He was learning magic and about the supernatural. He had acted as a bridge between their packs and others, though not in the traditional way.

When Peter was finished with the tattoo, he straightened his hunched back with a grunt. "Looks like we're done," he said, rolling back on his stool. "Take a look."

Anita pushed herself up, moving over to the mirror and taking in a soft breath. "Oh wow," she breathed out.

Vince came jogging over, eager. "Lemme see, lemme see," he said, and Anita turned toward him, lifting her arm. He gingerly held her hand and gazed down at the finished work. "Mama," he said softly, eyes going wet and his lip wibbling. He sniffed loudly.

"Oh, c'mere you," Anita said, pulling her son into a tight hug. "I love you, you big goof. You know that."

Vince nodded, pulling away to wiped at the moisture on his eyelashes. "Love you too, Mama." He sniffed again, wetly.

Peter was smiling to himself when Stiles moved over to them. "Do you want me to heal it?" he asked Anita, and she held out her arm to him. "I healed my own tattoo." He laid his hand over the portrait, white light shining through the cracks of his fingers. When he drew his head back, the tattoo looked months old instead of fresh.

"He can make his tattoos move!" Vince added in an excited voice.

When Anita lifted her eyebrows, Stiles pulled up his shirt to demonstrate. She gasped and laughed goodnaturedly, before she patted Stiles on the shoulder. Then she hugged Peter, whispering a 'thank you' into his ear.

After Vince paid for his mother's tattoo, allowing no argument in the matter, they left, trailing the scent of happiness behind them.

Stiles came bouncing over to him, and Peter turned his seat so his mate could slide into his lap, one leg on either side of his hips. Peter tilted his head up for the kiss Stiles gave him, giving a little hum of pleasure. Stiles was a comfortable weight on him.

"I love seeing you so happy," Stiles said, pulling back enough to bump their noses.

Peter chuckled, sliding his hands along Stiles’s thighs to grip his ass. "What else would I be?"

"Wow, you guys, try to keep it PG," Carina said with a laugh.

Stiles looked over at her. "Yes, _Mom_." He slid off of Peter’s lap and went to head back to his research, but Peter caught his hand, so he stopped and looked back.

"Hey," Peter said, pulling him close again. "How would you like to be the pack's emissary?"

Stiles blinked. "Like Deaton?" Peter nodded and Stiles’s face lit up. "Yes!" He pounced on Peter again, smooching him deeply, and Peter laughed against his mouth.

"Ugh!" was Carina's melodramatic opinion. Dan just chuckled.

* * *

That night, or well, at four in the morning when they decided to go to sleep, Peter was ready for bed. He and Stiles made out lazily for a bit, but they weren't in the mood for any more, so they turned off the lights and got comfortable.

For about ten minutes, they were still. But then Stiles started to fidget. He shifted around and grunted, sighing every once and a while. Peter wasn't surprised that he was anxious. It was difficult for Stiles to settle down on a normal day, but after he'd been titled as emissary? Peter was lucky Stiles wasn’t jumping up and down on the bed.

"Peter," Stiles said finally, after a long hour of twitching.

"Mm?"

"Are you awake?"

"Mm." Peter didn't bother turning toward Stiles.

"I was just thinking."

"Don't hurt yourself," Peter mumbled.

Stiles gave his shoulder a push. "Ha, so funny. But like, panthers aren't really black, right? They're just dark jaguars."

What.

"Yes?" Peter replied, wondering where the hell this came from.

"Are black domestic cats really black, or are they just a dark kind of different cat?"

Peter laid there a long moment, his brain's loading circle spinning. Finally he came up with nothing. "I have no idea."

Stiles shuffled. "I have to look it up," he said, and soon there was light coming from his side.

"You do that," Peter said, pushing his face into his pillow to try and get some sleep.

"Hey, Facebook notifications," Stiles whispered.

To that, Peter rolled over and grabbed Stiles’s phone. Stiles let out a 'hey!' when he locked it and set it on the bedside table, before he draped himself over his mate. "Sleep, Stiles," he rumbled at him.

Stiles huffed but went quiet for a long time. Peter was almost asleep when Stiles shifted. "Hey, Peter?"

"Hm?"

"Am I going to be a good emissary?" There was worry in his voice, and Peter wanted to chase it away.

Peter shifted so he could press his lips against Stiles's cheek. "The best."

Stiles made a pleased noise, and Peter didn't need light to know he was grinning.

**Author's Note:**

> I liked this one even though it was mostly jibberish. XD
> 
> Next up: Dan has a request, and there is a new face.


End file.
